Small Moments
by Eady of Old
Summary: A quiet life of shared love and small moments.


**Small Moments: An Afternoon Picnic**

**Summary:** A quiet life of shared love and small moments.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Downton Abbey and never claimed to.

**A/N: Fluff, as promised. It was incredibly difficult to keep this short story light and fluffy considering my two angsty WIPs. Every new paragraph I wanted to launch into a long-winded plot involving guilt or worry or longing. But I restrained myself! For timeline purposes, this takes place sometime after Bates' release from prison in S3. No direct mentions of S4 so it can fit in any time, really. I'm marking it as completed for now but if I come up with other fluffy ficlet ideas I might add to it.**

**Reviews are always appreciated :)**

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He surprised her with a picnic for their half day. The baskets were all packed when she arrived from Downton and he allowed her a few minutes to change. He described the spot he picked as a pretty, uninhabited corner of the country near the edge of house grounds.

Anna smiled as he handed her the smaller bundle - a blanket for them to lay out and sit on - while he took the heavier items. They walked at a leisurely pace until they arrived at the place he'd decided on, talking of little, inconsequential things as they went.

Anna delighted in the domesticity of it as her husband shook out the blanket and laid it out for them. He smiled at her childlike exploration of the well provisioned baskets. Inside, she found a bottle of beer much like the one she'd acquired for their picnic at Duneagle. She poured them each a glass of the dark liquid and he held his aloft for a toast.

"To my beautiful, remarkable wife," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "You are my peace and my salvation. You are everything to me."

Anna dipped her head in pleased embarrassment at the glowing toast. "You know I feel the same about you," she responded. "So, to my incredible husband."

She clinked her glass against his and they both took a sip of the beverage. The sweet taste of the brown liquid caused her to sputter and laugh, and he followed suit.

"Root beer, Mister Bates?" she questioned, flashing him a teasing look.

"I'm afraid I'm not as racy as you," he responded with a chuckle.

Anna quickly disemboweled the baskets, laying out between them an impressive spread of food. Some of the treats were most certainly provided by Mrs. Patmore or Daisy, whereas others were store bought from Ripon, including some of her favorite imported chocolates.

"And what is the meaning of all this?" she asked upon uncovering all the treasures. "My birthday is already passed and it is still months before our anniversary."

"Why do I need a reason to spend time with my wife?" he responded. "In fact, it's something I've resolved to do more often."

"Is that so?"

Anna quirked an eyebrow at him, still suspicious of the surprise picnic but unwilling to take it for granted. As she finished sorting through the baskets, she discovered that there were no plates for them to eat from. He grinned at her concentration as she fretted over the problem.

"Here," he said, taking a bit of finger food and holding it out for her. Sensually, she leaned forward and took the morsel in her mouth.

"Perhaps not racy, but a bit naughty," Anna teased him as she finished the bite. She held out a bite for him, which he gladly took, piercing her with his eyes as his lips grazed her fingers.

"Not too naught, I hope."

"We shall see, Mister Bates."

Smirking at her, he observed lightly, "You aren't terribly fond of my first name, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You almost never call me John, and never outside the cottage."

The teasing tone of her voice dropped as she noted, "I didn't know it was that important to you."

"It isn't. I was only curious as to why," he clarified.

Anna shrugged as she focused her eyes on the food between them. "Just seems right to me, calling you Mister Bates. To me, that's who you are, who you've always been. And I do call you John sometimes."

"You do," he allowed, "but rarely."

Pursing her lips, Anna informed him, "Well you don't call me Mrs. Bates very often, even when we are outside of the cottage."

"Yes, but I've always called you Anna."

"And I've always called you Mr. Bates."

He chuckled at her logic. Nodding thoughtfully, he ceded her the match and they continued eating as they had before.

The day he'd selected for their surprise picnic turned out to be very fine indeed with not a cloud marring the sky and seasonable temperatures. A slight wind blew, just enough to rustle the leaves in the trees.

Once they'd had their fill of food, Bates stretched out along the length of the blanket to stare up at the sky, keeping his bad knee bent to relieve the pressure. Anna stretched out along his side, curling herself against him. But as she attempted to lay her head in the crook of his arm, she remembered the hat pinned to her head.

"Take it off," he suggested to her.

Anna responded hesitantly, "I shouldn't. It isn't really proper."

He chuckled at her statement. "There's no one but me here to see, and I've witnessed you much more improperly dressed than without a hat."

She quirked her lips at him but removed the pin holding it to her head. After carefully setting it aside, she resumed her place tucked up beside him, her arm resting lightly across his chest. They remained like that for some time, still and quiet, surrounded by nature and the sounds of birds singing.

After a while, Anna interrupted the silence. "I think I could stay here forever, just the two of us."

"Me too," he agreed. His voice rumbled deep in his chest, and she could feel the vibrations through his shirt and jacket.

"Of course, at some point, I'd want to go inside."

She flavored her comment carefully, with a touch of raciness intended just for him.

"Is that so, Mrs. Bates?" The humor in his voice caused her to smile and blush simultaneously. "But what does the indoors have that could be denied us here?"

"Well, privacy, for one."

She felt his answering chuckle as much as heard it. "And are you keen for privacy, my darling?" he asked, a touch of something deeper in his voice.

"I'm keen for my afternoon with my husband, Mister Bates," she answered without guile. With a grin, she added softly, "John."

She heard him sigh with pleasure at her use of his given name.

Content to do nothing else in the world but luxuriate in the feel of his arm around her, Anna let her eyes close. She inhaled his familiar scent as she timed her breathing with his. With her ear against his chest, she could make out the distant thud of his heartbeat, strong and steady.

She waited for him to fall asleep, but he simply lay there with her, his hand occasionally tracing soft circles and lines against her back. While Mr. Bates was not necessarily a man of few words, he rarely volunteered his own thoughts without prompting. Sometimes he amazed her with the depth of his mental processes, at one point considering the state of national politics and the next ruminating on an improved layout for their garden for the next season.

And every so often, he would tell her that he'd been thinking about her.

The color of her eyes. The sound of her voice early in the morning when it was still coarse from sleep. How kind she was to the new undergardener. The sorry excuse for a cake she'd attempted to make after forgetting to include eggs. How much he loved helping her remove the pins from her hair and letting down the soft waves of her hair from the confines of its daily bun.

Anna much preferred it when his thoughts of her were happy ones. She hated when he spoke of unworthiness and lost time.

"And what has your mind occupied today?" she voiced at last, too curious to stay silent.

"I don't know," he responded languidly. "Just things."

"What sort of things?"

"Well... I was remembering how much I wished you would take off your hats when you came to visit me in prison," he volunteered. Anna smiled as he added, "But it was probably for the best. Not sure if I could have controlled myself."

Reminded of all the times they were denied the ability to touch, she snuggled more firmly against him and moved her arm across his body to hold him more securely. He flexed the arm holding her against him in response, and Anna sighed.

"I still thank God every day that you were released," she said quietly. "I don't think I could have endured being denied this for the rest of our lives."

"Me either."

She would have endured it of course, no matter how long she had to wait for him, but one night as man and wife was not enough. Anything short of an eternity together seemed too short a period for her tastes.

His chest expanded slowly as he took in a deep breath, and Anna felt his nose nuzzling against her hair. She knew he ached to run his fingers through it but would refrain from mussing the tight bun. While he preferred it down and free so his large fingers could trail through the strands, he would wait until they were alone at the cottage.

For a moment, she longed for the privacy they'd spoken of before. But she so enjoyed the time spent out of doors with Mr. Bates. While Mr. Carson took pains to ensure their half days coincided, they rarely got such opportunities as this. Besides, the steady rise and fall of his chest was as relaxing as a lullaby, and Anna felt the gentle pull of fatigue.

"What other things?" she asked quietly.

"Of shoes and ships and ceiling wax," he recited, "of cabbages and kings."

She smiled at the literary reference. He so loved books, her husband, and she enjoyed it when he read to her or shared with her the plot of his latest novel. While also quite a reader, she could never match him and the pile of volumes on his nightstand at the cottage. He usually borrowed them from his Lordship's library so they did not accumulate in their home, but Anna wondered about the day when Mr. Bates might exhaust even the Earl's extensive collection.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, turning the tables on her.

Without hesitation, she answered, "I was thinking about how much I love you and our life together."

Pensively, he inquired, "Then you don't wish for more?"

"I'm here, enjoying a romantic afternoon with the love of my life. What more could I possibly wish for?" Anna countered.

Not all of Lady Mary's finery or Lord Grantham's property could ever buy her what she possessed at that moment.

"Do you," she returned, "wish for more?"

"As long as you're happy, that is all I could ever want," Mr. Bates answered her.

She shifted slightly, pushing herself up so that she could see his face. His eyes found hers and she leaned in to kiss his lips - a promise for later - before settling back into his arms.

They fell asleep together just like that, with a gentle breeze playing over them as the afternoon sun shone overhead. The future was unwritten, a vast landscape of possibilities stretching into the coming years. Each dreamed of little ones with the other's features. A small hotel not far from Downton. Prosperity and joy. A quiet life of shared love and small moments.

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fin


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